Draconic Lore
by Blue Dot77
Summary: This is a story of how two people will help shape history. It will span all three games. It is a tale of love and loss, of betrayal and desperation, and it is a tale of trials. They will brave the Blight with the Hero, take up arms with the Champion of Kirkwall, and fight Corypheus to seal the Breach and save Thedas. The in betweens and how's? You'll have to read to find out.
1. The Slave

**This is the story of two girls who meet at young ages and are torn apart by fate. An elven mage with cursed blood. A bloodthirsty human rogue. Their story spans from the 5th Blight, where they fought alongside the Hero of Ferelden, to joining forces with the Champion of Kirkwall and, with time, being tangled into the fate of the world as one of them shall be marked with the key to their salvation.**

**The only question: As many times as they have helped save the world, is there truly any way they themselves can be saved?**

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><p><strong>Sora Zullie<strong>

The sound of splintering wood met my ears as my papa picked me up and into his slender arms. Shouts met my ears, the voices of men I did not know filling my once peaceful home. Papa's grip around me tightened, reaching a point of almost bruising my thin arms. Fear gripped me even tighter than Papa. I buried my head into his chest and tried to ignore the pounding footsteps that were heading in our direction.

"Sora," my papa whispered my name as if I were a fragile flower. I looked up, straight into the crystal blue eyes that I had inherited. My papa's hair, an oaken brown, fell haphazardly around his face. His skin was like polished ivory. The expression upon my Papa's usually peaceful face was one of determination. "You have to be brave, for me. Can you do that, flower?"

I nodded, unsure of why the grave tone in which my papa spoke made me want to cling to his rough tunic harder. Papa's arms began to release me slowly, reluctantly. Struggling to stay in his grasp, I felt compelled to fight against the soft arms that my papa was placing me in. A soft cry left me, the plea of a child, "Please Papa."

"I love you, both of you," Papa told me as he finally managed to detangle me and place me into arms that I realized was the warm, protective arms of my mama. Papa leaned over me to place a soft kiss on Mama's lips before bending down and placing another upon my forehead. "They are slavers. Perhaps I can buy you both some time."

"Raef…," my mama's sweet-as-honey voice broke as she spoke my papa's name. Papa didn't respond, instead turning to grab the most valuable thing our family possessed, a sword that had been forged by our ancestors and passed down through the generations. My papa used to tell me stories of the battles that blade had seen.

"Go ma vhenan," Papa commanded. I looked up at my mama's face just as a tear fell from her meadow green eyes. She moved forward and brushed my papa's hair back and out of his face. Cradling me, my mama fled the room as more tears began to flow down her cheeks. At the time I was too young to know what those tears were. They were tears of morning. My mama was a widow now.

Our back door was in view when a loose floorboard caught Mama by surprise and she toppled over. Twisting, she managed to land on her back so as to cushion me from the fall. Down the hall, I heard a loud scuffling and not-so-muffled swearing. Mama scrambled back onto her feet but was too late as a group of three men, the slavers, burst into the hall. She set me down on the floor, my bare feet balancing upon the hard wood. Pushing me behind her, Mama raised her chin and pulled out a dagger from her belt. Defiance gleamed in her emerald eyes as her head tilted back her fiery red hair that was the same shade as my own seemed to flicker as if it were alive. The three men's faces were revealed in the candlelight, each one seared into my memory.

"Where do you two think you're going?" a gravelly voice questioned. My mother's eyes flickered between between the three. My body was shaking with terror as my eyes swept over the three men. The one that had spoken had dusty brown hair that was piled messily atop his head, and was obviously unwashed. His brown eyes were almost black, looking first to the dagger and then to my mother as a dark chuckle left him. "Look at this, men! This elven _bitch _thinks she stands a chance. Let's show'er what 'appens to knife ears that don't learn their place."

He made a motion with one hand and one of his companions, the blond with hateful blue eyes, brought up his bow and aimed it at my mother.

"Run, Sora," my mom whispered. Nodding, I took off for the door. My hand was on the handle when a loud thud filled the room and I couldn't fight the urge to turn and look. The blond was on the ground, blood pouring from where a dagger had embedded itself into his neck. The one with the gravelly voice had swept forward and was now pressing a sword against my mama's neck as his fingers wrapped around her braid. The sword moved in one swift motion, blood gushing from my mama's neck as her body went limp. Gagging, I turned and ran out my back door and into the chilly night, tears stinging in my eyes as I went.

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><p><strong>~2 Years Later~<strong>

My throat was dry and scratchy. It was always dry and scratchy. My lips felt like torn up parchment as I ran my tongue over them in an attempt to wet them. There wasn't much I could do to solve my thirst. The hunger pains were sharp and intense. I couldn't even pull myself out from under the dirty sack I used as a blanket. I wished I could just die already. Death had to be better than this existence. My eyes fluttered shut. Maybe I could just sleep. Maybe death would come claim me. At least the nightmares didn't come anymore. I was too weak to dream.

"Hello?" a soft voice dredged me up from my sleep and I opened my eyes to see a tall, thin girl around my age leaning over me. A scream ripped itself from my throat and I tried to scuttle away from her but soon found moving to be far too much of a strain on my weakened body. She was holding a bowl of not-quite-sanitary water and a dry hunk of meat. If I wasn't dehydrated, I was sure my mouth would be salivating. "I wasn't trying to scare you. You look starved and, well, I know how it feels to be really hungry. I'm sorry I don't have much but you can have what's left."

I couldn't summon words. I don't think I had the ability to say them anyway. My throat ached for the dirty bowl of water. She placed it on the ground next to me and, without hesitation, I dove for it. The tepid water cooled my burning throat and helped numb the ache. I had already downed half of the water when I forced myself to pull it from my lips. The strange silver-eyed girl was holding out the chunk of meat to me and I slowly reached for it as well.

"Thank you," I croaked. A small smile pulled at the girl's lips. I tried to smile back but the effort pulled at the cracks in my lips. Hastily, I returned my attention to the hunk of meat. I bit into it, my teeth ripping off a good sized bite. It was dry and tasted like sawdust but when I swallowed the first bite I felt it settle in my previously empty stomach.

"Don't eat too fast. You'll get sick. I learned that the hard way," she informed me. Her long, black as oil, hair fell in her face a bit and she pushed it out of the way. I nodded and bit off another chunk. It settled like a log in my stomach and before long I had finished the meager meal the girl and had given me. When I was finished, I looked up at her. She was watching me calmly, with a small smile on her lips.

"Who are you?" my question came out slightly garbled but she seemed to understand. The raven-haired girl in front of me stretched out her hand with a large smile.

"My name is Faella Draecin," she introduced herself. I hesitantly slipped my small hand into her slightly larger one. Her palm was rough. She must have been living on the streets for years to have developed such rough callouses.

"I'm Sora. Sora Zullie," I mumbled as her grip tightened on my hand and I shook hands with the strange girl. Voices drifted from down the alley and my eyes darted to their source. A group of men, dressed up in leather armor with their greasy hair hanging in their faces, were rummaging around. Swords hung from their backs as they searched for something. I noticed them reaching the makeshift tent of Dolores Bierg. She was the only other person I talked to. The men ripped open the flap to her makeshift home and I heard her screams even from as far away as I sat. There was no mistaking it, these men were going to take her. Slavers always ransacked the alleys and slums of Kirkwall in search of some other homeless mutt that they could turn in for some coin to fill their bellies with mead. "We have to go."

The girl in front of me was staring in wide-eyed horror at the scene as it unfolded before us but we couldn't afford to waste time gawking. A few of the men were moving towards us. We had evaded notice so far, but I could see their beady eyes scanning from side to side. Without much thought, I grabbed the girl by her bony wrist and began fleeing. We kept low to the ground even as we rounded a corner. Adrenaline kept me moving but it was proving difficult to battle the weakness in my limbs.

"Where are we going?" Faella asked, looking over her shoulder to see if the men had spotted us.

"Hiding place...I...hide...trap door...secret," I gasped, pointing at a place cluttered with sacks and empty boxes. Faella had to half drag me over to the spot and I frantically pushed sacks out of the way until I found the indention in the wood. It was a hollowed out semicircle. I reached into the groove and pulled with all of my remaining strength. A pair of ivory hands overlapped mine and Faella helped me tug at the wood. It groaned open and we both hurriedly slipped inside. The drop to the floor of the secret cellar-like room was a good ten feet if you didn't have time to grab hold and slide down the frayed rope that was handing from the trap door. To our misfortune, Faella and I did not have the time. Unlike me, Faella had no knowledge of the drop and fell with a clatter to the floor whereas I managed to fall into a roll. A few cuts covered my skin but I was fine. Faella, however, was laying in a heap on the floor and moaning softly. I quickly spotted the odd angle her ankle was bent at. Crawling over to her, I reached for the injured foot. As soon as I touched it, Faella hissed and smacked my hand away. "You have to let me help. I'm... I'm a mage. I'm not very good, but I can heal it."

I waited for her eyes to turn accusatory and for some type of strike. I was an elven mage- probably one of the worst things you could be in a society dominated by small-minded humans. It took a moment for me to notice that the accusations I was expecting were not coming. Faella was surprisingly quiet. My crystal blue eyes risked a glance up at her- expecting harsh judgement and disgust to be wrinkling her features. Instead, I found guarded curiosity.

"Are you sure you can heal it?" Faella broke the seemingly impenetrable silence. I nodded in response and gave her wound an unsure once-over. Could I? I could try. "Okay. It can't hurt to try."

I smiled and reached for the injured ankle. A simple healing spell, one my papa had taught me, came to mind. I let it dominate my thoughts as I delicately touched the injury. It seeped into my skin and poured down to my fingertips. A soft glow covered her injury but I couldn't let it break my concentration. Faella gasped but it didn't sound pained so I continued. When I was finished, I pulled back and examined her ankle. It looked much better that it had moments ago.

"You did it!" Faella grinned. A small smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. Pride swelled in my chest and I tried not to let it go to my head. It was a simple spell on a small injury- nothing impressive.

"I'd try to stay off of it. It may need some rest," I mused.

"You got it, Doc," Faella gave me a mock salute and my grin grew in amusement. "So, what is this place?"

I glanced around the room. The walls and floor were dirt. The ceiling was made of worn wood and the walls were lined with broken shelves. At one wall was a large chest I had never been able to break open. Faella caught sight of it as well and rose to her feet against my protestations that she shouldn't be walking.

"What's in that?" She limped over to it and squatted down in front of it.

"I don't know. I can't get it open," I admitted. Reaching into her pocket, Faella pulled out two thin pieces of metal and slid them into the lock. She was deftly moving the metal pieces with such concentration that I was impressed. There was a soft click and then the lock popped open. Stowing away her tools, Faella lifted the lid of the chest and thrust it away from her. A cloud of dust swirled as a reaction. She reached inside and pulled out a stack of musty tomes and dirty robes. I moved over to her side and began examining her find. There was a coin purse full of sovereigns and the books appeared to be spell books and how to's on controlling your magic.

"This was an apostate's home," I realized. "They must have gotten caught by the templars."

"You could use these books, right Sora? Oh, this one's in elven! You can read what it says, right?" Faella shoved a dusty book at my face. I furrowed my eyebrows at it. I had never learned much elven since I lost my parents at a young age. I shook my head. "Oh. That's okay. We'll just sel-"

"No!" I cried out, wrapping my thin arms around the book. "I want to keep it. Maybe I can use it to learn.."

_how to speak like my papa did._

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><p><strong>~4 Years Later~<strong>

Another successful snatch. All it took was some well placed fire and an innocent mask- two things I was good at- and small fingers with the ability to stay out of sight- two things Faella excelled at. We had snagged the nobleman's coin purse right from under his nose and now I just had to run back to our hideaway. Faella had convinced me four years ago that it was a much better place for us to live. She was right. We were safer there. The nights were cold, but I could summon fire. The weather could not reach us. It was our home. I spotted Faella running ahead of me. Her hair was trailing behind her and the wind carried her delighted laughter. Quickly, I caught up to her and we were running side by side. It was just like any other snatch we had done. Only this time, I didn't check for slavers. Fingers dug into my braid and hauled me backwards. I gasped in pain and my small hands reached back to tug at the burly fingers tangled in my fiery red hair.

"Faella run!" I screamed. It was too late. One of the men grabbed her. We were being held side by side and I struggled in the man who held me's grasp. He just laughed. Faella was crying and scratching at the hand tangled in her hair. She loved her hair. Tears pricked my eyes and I reached over to grab that man's hand. "I'm sorry Faella."

Flames leaped from my fingers and burned the man's hand along with her hair. She cried out but finally broke free. I screamed at her to run and she did. Small flames flickered in her hair as she escaped. The commotion from my spell had given her a distraction. Relief momentarily filled me and then I was being shoved into the ground. The man dug his knee into my back and I tasted dirt and blood in my mouth.

"An apostate," the man snarled.

"And a knife 'er at 'hat," another one pointed out, kicking me in my ribs.

"Looks like we found a little rodent for Magister Tiberius's project. We'll be living like nobles, boys," the first man bragged. I struggled in his grip but it was useless. I was a goner.

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><p><strong>In the next chapter we will be faced with Faella's own battle. With Sora gone, what will Faella do? What lengths will our thief be willing to go to in order to find her best friend? At this point in the story, our future heroins are two 12 year old girls with poor lots in life. Despite their hopeless circumstances as of present, they are destined to play a vital role in Thedas.<strong>


	2. The Assassin

**This story is rated M for future "adult" themes.**

**I do not own Dragon Age and I do not claim ownership of its characters.**

**Faella Draecin and Sora Zullie are two characters of my slightly demented imagination. If someone would like to draw fanart at some point of the deadly duo, I would be really grateful because I would like a new cover photo for the story. The artist will be given credit of course. Honestly, I'm just too busy writing to get it done myself.**

**Enough of my ramblings. I plan on talking a lot less later on. I just had to get all of that written and out of the way.**

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><p><strong>Tell Me Assassin.<br>What is your tale?  
>What has brought you through the Veil?<br>You do not speak of days gone past.  
>You only think of your immediate future.<br>What will you do, oh Shedder of Blood?  
>When your prey is far and scarce.<br>Can you see through Friend or Foe?  
>Or will the poison cause your heart to slow?<br>Deep in the darkness.  
>Your fear will grow.<br>Your hunger for blood.  
>The only lust you know.<strong>

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><p><strong>Faella Draecin<strong>

Gone. That's all she was. In a matter of seconds, she was gone. Her red hair was no longer flapping in the wind. Her soprano voice no longer filled the small room we called home. I was alone. The room was colder without her. There was no fire. There was nothing. Only me and her books. I spotted the elven tome and cuddled it close to my aching chest. My hair still smelled burn and now barely brushed my shoulders. It was singed, but I was alive. Sora had saved my life and I had done nothing to save her in return. I had to save her. One day, I would save her.

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><p><strong>~1 Year Later~<strong>

They were an Assassins Guild. The Cloaked Dagger, they called themselves, and their leader was a man with long hair the color of a starless night and eyes that reminded me of ale named Falastin. He had a strong jaw and angular features and he was also pulling his dagger out of the back of the head of a man that had been chasing me. The man had been screaming at me that I was a mongrel. He had smelled of ale and shit and I wanted as far away from his foul-smelling corpse as possible. Falastin looked at me as he wiped the dagger on his arm. He knelt in front of me and offered me the dagger.

"Would you like to learn to fight like me?" he asked. My mind went back to Sora. It had been so long since I had last seen her that I could barely remember what she looked like. I remembered her fiery red hair and her voice but even those memories were obscure. I had to rescue her. I refused to let her become a distant memory. She had to be alive.

"On one condition. When I'm strong, I want to save my friend. I have to save her. Her name is Sora Zullie and she let herself get caught to save me and- and-" I rambled. Falastan smiled as he laid the dagger in my hand.

"Say no more. We will help you find her- if you join us- and the you can leave to reunite with your friend when the time comes."

My hand wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and I nodded.

_Just you wait Sora. I'm going to get big and strong and tear all of Thedas apart until I find you._

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><p><strong>~5 Years Later~<strong>

"Faella, what are you doing?" Lysander growled as I leaped from one roof to another. My feet slid across the slanted roof until I applied pressure to my heels and spikes shot out from my dark leather boots. The skid across the roof slowed to a halt and I grinned victoriously as our target came into sight.

It was a group of mercenaries, the Tali Hah or something else funny sounding like that. The job was simple, almost too easy. All we had to do was kill their leader and anyone else stupid enough to get in my way. It was a one man job, at most, yet Falastin had been adamant that I bring Lysander along just in case. Lysander was an average-looking man, slightly pudgy yet still containing enough muscle to get the job done. His dirty blond hair was cut off close to the scalp and his dull green eyes were lethal when on the job. Lysander was a strict rules follower, never acknowledging that technically everything assassins did was against the rules. When Lysander finally caught up with me, he had to look up at me because of the severe height difference.

"There you are, Shorty," I grinned down at him as I ruffled his hair. Scowling, Lysander knocked my hand away and put his helmet back on.

"Just because you're Falastin's second-in-command doesn't mean you get to make fun of-"

"Yea, yea, yea. Look, there's our target," I pointed across the road from our rooftop hiding spot, crouching as my eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on the tall, lean man. Despite the short amount of time I had spent in the Guild, I had learned quickly. I had to learn quickly. I couldn't waste time fumbling around in training when I had someone out there waiting for me to find them. Falastin had treated me as his star pupil which made becoming better faster and easier. I got his nearly undivided attention and he helped me learn how to be as effective at killing as I was at pissing people off. The sound of Lysander notching an arrow behind me caught my attention and I looked behind me to see three men with weapons approaching us. I hissed, tightening my gloved hands into fists. Spikes stood out from my knuckles and I shifted into a pouncing position.

I moved forward, swift and silent, and sent my fist to one of their faces before twisting around to press two fingers into the base of another's throat. He gagged, grasping his throat and collapsing to the ground as he convulsed. The third man fell by Lysander's arrow to his forehead.

"Come on, before our target escapes!" I growled, turning to jump from the roof. I pulled poisoned-tipped daggers from my belt and sent them flying towards six of the men. Each dagger embedded into throats, sending blood flying as I landed upon one of the other men. My fist came back before slamming the spiked glove into his face. Licking my lips, I wiped the blood from my face and rose to see a few of the men with arrows in their heads and throats. A startled yell met my ears and I turned to see our target surrounded by his personal guard of eight.

One charged towards me, earning a swift kick to his shins that brought him tumbling down and then a spiked heel sliced the back of his throat open with a swift sweep of my foot. Another approached so I shifted into a quick kick, my leg raising and the spike on my boot slashing across his face. He cried out in pain before falling, clutching his bleeding face as he moaned. Two more came in my direction and I retracted the spike before moving to the first one and pressing one finger to his jugular, collar, and behind the ear quickly. He froze up and I quickly grabbed him by the straps on his armor before turning and throwing him at the other guard. They both fell and I smirked before looking to see that the other four of the guards had fallen, arrows protruding from their chests and above. My metallic eyes found the target and I grinned at his fleeing form before running forward and jumping. My body flew through the air and I wrapped my arms around him, bringing us both to the ground in a tumble. He struggled against my hold but I rolled on top of him and pinned him to the ground. One of my gloved fingers reached to the back of his head and began circling the base of his skull as wide, fearful brown eyes stared up at me.

"Please! Don't kill-" his pleading was cut off as I applied pressure. His eyes rolled up in his head, his body trembled beneath me and I felt as if I should be sickened by the ordeal. Instead of sickened, a delighted feeling crept across my senses. Two of my fingers pressed to his pulse point and I jabbed them in. His trembling stopped, along with his heart. Pulling my hands back, I rose and turned to see Lysander approaching.

"So you killed him. That's good. Falastin would be pleased," his tone was suspicious, a smooth purr that was unlike the scratchy tenor Lysander usually spoke with. My eyes narrowed as I watched him twirl a dagger in his hands. His eyes, twinkling with secrets, looked up at me and I barely moved in time before the dagger was flying in my direction. My body twisted to the side and I watched with wide eyes as a dagger cut across the bridge of my nose. A sharp sting shot through my nose and I felt my warm, sticky blood begin to rush from the wound. My blood ran into my mouth, the coppery taste running over my lips and dying them crimson. Then Lysander was in my face, daggers rushing past my skin, missing by a hair as I dipped and twisted out of his reach A dagger dug into my shoulder, the burning sting of poison webbing across my skin from the injury.

The spike on my boot slashed through the air as I made a quick turn, dodging his dagger and securing a good cut across his chest. He grunted in pain and I sent my spiked fist into his abdomen. It stuck and I barely had enough time to see the pain and hate in his eyes before I flicked my wrist. His eyes widened and I watched as he began to sink to his knees.

"You traitorous-" I was cut off as the poison spiked through my chest. I fell backwards, collapsing onto my back as I stared up at the empty sky. "What poison did you use?"

Lysander grinned at me as I rolled over to glare at him. My brain was growing fuzzy, muscles burning from my shoulder to my chest. I crawled across the blood-splattered ground over towards Lysander. His blood was pooling around him like a spilled drink. The crimson fluid stuck to my arms as I moved through it. My hand gripped his wrist and I pulled the dagger out of his hand to look at the poisoned blade. The poison was a clear color.

"Only the best for our darling prodigy," Lysander coughed and I looked up to see blood leaking from his mouth. The burning pain had moved all the way across my body, a horrible sensation that made me want to curl into a ball. My hand went to the pouch on my hip, shaking like a leaf as I grabbed a vial out of it. Bringing it to my lips, I took a drink from it. The antidote seemed to take the edge off, and I staggered to my feet. I was surrounded by corpses, one too many corpses.

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><p>"I've paid back what you invested in me and then some, Falastin," I looked up at the aging assassin. Falastin's hair had begun to grey, the long ponytail chopped off in favor of a shaggy cut. His face was pale, the tan beginning to melt away over the years. I was sure he wasn't as old as his appearance made him seem- stress rather than age would be the Guildmaster's undoing.<p>

"You are my apprentice, Faella. You will be the leader of the Cloaked Daggers-" his pastel green eyes narrowed in confusion as I interrupted him.

"You know I have to save her, Falastin. That was the entire point of me coming here, was to save her and get away from here. Now I know where she is! I can't let her slip through my fingers again," I implored him to let me go. Falastin's eyes fell to the bag of gold sitting in his hands. It was all the money I had gotten together over the years. "I love the Daggers, I do, but I need to do this. I'll always hold my experiences here close to my heart."

He turned his back on me, throwing the bag of gold onto his desk.

"When I turn around, make sure that you are gone. And know that, after you are gone, I can no longer protect you.," his voice was cold and emotionless, his back straight as a board as he pointedly blocked out my presence. Bowing my head, I said goodbye to the only family I had. The Cloaked Daggers had been my family. We protected one another, and we stood by one another. At least, we did until Lysander attempted to kill me. After that, Falastin had grown cold and harsh. He had become protective of me, demanding dead any who harmed me. Many other assassins seemed to share Lysander's want to end my life and take my place. Now they could have it. I was leaving with the knowledge that I would never be welcome back.

I reached back and brushed my fingers through my hair. It had been kept short to remind me of Sora's sacrifice.

I knew where Sora was, and I would not let anything keep me from saving her.

* * *

><p>Magister Tiberius was a wealthy and powerful man. He had more secrets than chest hairs but was an expert at getting rid of anyone who snooped in on his affairs. Word from my informant- who was now nothing but an unnamed corpse in the middle of a forest thanks to Tiberius's expertise- was that Tiberius had a special "pet". An elf girl he had purchased from slavers 6 years ago that he had renamed and turned into his pet. I had sent people to spy on Tiberius and those that survived described his little pet to me. She had to be Sora, I was sure of it.<p>

As I mounted the steps to his manor, I only hoped that I would be able to convince him to hire my services. I just had to get inside and find her, then we could escape.

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><p>Magister Tiberius was a tall, thin man with a well trimmed goatee the color of tree bark and a bald head. He also really liked to wear pointy blue robes and ramble on and on about himself and how powerful he was. He was more than willing to take me on as part of his guard- he claimed that there were far too many jealous of his power.<p>

"Would you like to meet my pet? You'll probably see a lot of it. It will be one of your responsibilities to make sure it does as it's told," he informed me as he made a gesture to one of his servants to go fetch his "pet". "It is the prize of my collection. I had special light armor crafted for it so that it can be of more use to me."

"Sounds positively glorious," I assured him, carefully keeping my faced up. Moments later, the servant returned and beside him walked an elf. She wasn't carrying a staff but I could feel the magic practically radiating off of her. Her eyes were a fluorescent blue and practically glowed. Her hair was tied into an intricate braid that fell to her back and was the color of snow. She had pale, clear skin and her lips were almost blue in color. Her ears drew back into long, elegant points. She had a small frame that was accentuated by her silver armor. Runes were engraved all over the metal and even her armor seemed to amplify her aura of power. Yet she still seemed submissive towards the Magister.

"Master," she addressed Tiberius in a monotone. At first, I didn't recognize her at all; but then I noticed the similarities in her voice and the structure of her face. Her cheekbones were sharper but she still looked the same. Her hair, however, was no longer the fiery red I remembered. It was her, though, I could feel it.

"This is Miya Rainefin. She will be one of my new guards. You are to listen to her commands for her commands are my commands. Do you hear me, pet?" he stared down at her with a smug grin on his face. She nodded. "Miya, this is my prized possession. We call it Venus. Isn't it spectacular?"

"Yes, Magister Tiberius. It is definitely a possession worthy of your ownership," I nodded, trying to keep from seeming too suspicious.

"Venus. Escort Miya to the Guard's Barracks and then return to your quarters," Tiberius ordered.

"Yes Master," 'Venus' bowed submissively. She turned around and began walking and I caught up to her quickly. She was perhaps a head shorter than I and as soon as we seemed to be alone I couldn't help but open my mouth.

"Sora?" I questioned. Venus/Sora stopped abruptly and turned to look at me with wide eyes.

"How do you kno-" she cut herself off and gave the walls a nervous glance. "Follow me. The walls have ears."

We ducked into a side room- some sort of supply area full of mops and brooms.

"Now who are you and how do you know my real name?" Sora growled and pressed me up against the stone wall. I blinked, shocked by the sudden outburst as I tried to regain my composure. "Speak!"

"It-It's me, Faella," I assured her. She blinked and I watched as recognition began to light up in her already super bright eyes.

"Faella? How did- When did- What?"

"It's a long story and I swear I'll confide every detail to you as soon as we get out of here. I have a plan- sort of," I explained. "Well it's not much of a plan but I couldn't find any good information on this Tiberius guy or his home so I'm sort of just banking on having a whole lot of luck."

"Yea, because we've been lucky so far," Sora rolled her glowing eyes. "Are you even aware of how much danger you have placed yourself in? I promise you, I'm not the girl you remember- not completely. You should have let me go."

"Sora-"

"Come on. We need to get me back in my room quickly. They hate it when they can't find the Magister's precious trophy."

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><p>Silently, I made my way down the hallway. Sora's room was near the area of the mansion that housed Tiberius's guards. Most of them were out patrolling the halls or had drifted into a deep sleeps that- thanks to some nice fast working poison- they were never going to wake from. <em>All I had to do was get her and-<em> My eyes caught sight of four guards standing outside of Sora's room. They were all average size, not a challenge,_ per se_, unless your mission was to q_uietly_ retrieve the objective and escape _without_ attracting too much attention. Biting my lip, my eyes roamed over each of them. They were wearing heavy-duty armor, with large swords strapped to their backs. I had to choose the best approach to keep from the 'plan' falling apart. Making up my mind, I moved forward and smiled at the guards. All four were men. As I approached the men ceased muttering amongst themselves and turned their attention towards me. Bored eyes turned hungry as they looked me up and down in my leather outfit.

"What do you four think you're doing?!" I snapped, a mask of agitation and anger sliding onto my face. "There's been an attack in the East end. Get down there before Magister Tiberius finds out you were slacking off!"

"But-" one of them, his eyes now wide and fearful, moved forward with hesitation in each step.

"I do not want to hear excuses! Get down there, now!" I hissed, pulling out a poisoned dagger and shoving it in the direction I had come from. The four men straightened up and nodded before three of them took off down the hall. "You too-"

"The Magister requires that one of us stays with Venus at all times," he interrupted me with a suspicious glint in his dark eyes. I nodded, forcing myself to relax my expression as I moved forward and caressed his upper arm.

"I guess that just means no one will notice you're not with them," I purred, moving quickly to push a gloved finger against the exposed base of his throat. His eyes widened before rolling up into his head as his hands went up and tried to pull my hand away. Grinning evilly, I pushed even harder and a sense of pleasure rolled through me as his pulse sped up before coming to an abrupt halt. His body went limp, collapsing on the ground like a sack of potatoes. Kicking him out of my way, I went to work picking the lock to get into Sora's room. "Hold on, Sora, I almost got it."

"Faella? What are- nevermind. Just step aside," Sora hissed through the door and I moved out of the way. An aura of blue surrounded the door before it collapsed in on itself with a quick and low crunch. Splinters of wood that now littered the floor were the only remnants of the door. Sora stood on the other side, blue glowing tattoos on her exposed neck and curling around her facial features beginning to dull. Her eyes were an electric blue with a dark ring around them. Sora's teeth were barred, like a rabid wolf. As she relaxed, however, the glowing tattoos faded into her pale skin and her eyes turned back into their chilly crystal blue. Her lips formed a thin line and she stepped out of the room and over the body of her guard without casting him a glance. "So what is your big plan?"

"What was that?" my hand reached out towards Sora but stopped short as her eyes dropped to the floor.

"It's a long tale, my friend. We can trade stories when we get out of here. I've been wanting to do that for years but I never had the right opportunity," she began walking away and I moved to get beside her, taking her by the wrist as I led her silently through the halls. The plan was going near-perfectly until a group of guards appeared at the end of the hall ahead of us.

"Stop them!" one of the men shouted. Beside me, Sora let out a vicious snarl. Her arms lit up with flames that caressed her skin before forming a ball of fire that was sent into the approaching group of guards. The ones it hit screamed as the flames licked at their exposed flesh. I let loose a few daggers, each embedding itself into three different skulls. Sora let out a cry and I turned to see the markings from before lighting up with a blue fire before she sent a wave of force at the remaining guards. Each of them twisted through the air before falling to the ground with pained moans. We took off running, me bringing out both of the spikes in my boots so that I could send them into each of the remaining survivors as we passed.

Luckily we didn't run into her power mad Magister, but it wasn't until after a few more fights that we finally escaped from the mansion. We were both blood-covered and panting, our hair plastered to our faces with sweat as we took off into a nearby forest that we would have to go through in order to reach the Docks where I had used some coin to secure us a place on a ship heading to another country. Sora followed closely behind me as we clambered over fallen trees and avoided whatever traps we came across. Her skin was smoking, as if the marks beneath her skin were physically burning her whenever they lit up. I wanted to stop, to make sure she was okay, but I knew that if we even faltered in our steps for a second that Tiberius's guard would be upon us. So we charged on in the dark, both of us exhausted and in pain but too determined to escape from the shackles that bound us here.

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><p><strong>In Our Next Chapter: Sora and Faella have slipped into the night with a trail of corpses in their wake. It seems like they have gained their freedom, but what will the price of their reunion be? What has Magister Tiberius done to our beloved elven mage? Can the damage done to them ever be healed? You'll just have to keep reading. The path ahead is full of twists and turns and blurred lines between Friend and Foe.<strong>

**Please leave a review and/or follow the story. The story has just begun.**


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